Healing

Healing

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

July 1, 2018

Mark 5:21-43

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So he went with him.

And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Have you ever noticed that we have a lot of nurses in this church?  I started counting and I think that we have 11 nurses.  On top of that we have a dental hygienist, one veterinarian and also an emergency room doctor and 2 clinical psychologists. And we have a physical therapist too.  And other people who are engaged in healing in other ways as well  – yoga dance, and art therapy to name just a few. That’s a lot of healing being produced by this congregation – and that’s just professionally.  And then we have many people in this congregation who are in helping volunteer positions, or are caring for the infirmed in their own families or friends.  We often think of St. Michael’s as the church that feeds people, but in truth, we are very likely as involved in the healing arts as we are in providing food.

So how does this gospel lesson speak to us in the context that we find ourselves?  If this was a Bible study – I would love to spend time with you this morning talking about Mark’s technique of what is called a Markan Sandwich, folding two stories into one – starting with one story, that gets interrupted by another and then when that is completed returning to the beginning story.  And then there is the significance of the number 12 – which represents the 12 Tribes of Israel and other interesting things like that.

But for our purposes today, I want to focus in on the woman with the hemorrhages for 12 years. The story is about a desperate woman. She has been to every expert and had spent all her money trying to find a cure. So not only was she impoverished by this point, she was also living a marginalized life because she was ritually impure, and unable to live with others.  She would not have even been allowed to go into the synagogue, nor the temple in Jerusalem for 12 years.  She must have been exhausted, anemic, and without hope.

And then her faith brings her to Jesus and Jesus says to the woman, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” In that act of recognition, he cures her in body, mind and spirit.  She is not just some anonymous woman who has no value.  And she is not only healed in body, but she is restored to her community – including family, neighbors and religious community.

And our work as healers, professionally, as volunteers, as pastoral and Eucharistic visitors and as those who pray are the various ways, we demonstrate our love by spending time with those who need us – spending time with those for whatever reason feel that they are on the margins and alone.

And this week I was struck by two examples of unlikely healers who brought love to those who are in their unique way on the margins or alone, waiting to be restored to a beloved community – one is someone I know, and the other is from a book I was reading this week – although fictional represents the story of scores of people who heal by just showing up.

So the first example is a woman who after a career in marketing including for our very own Episcopal City Mission here is Boston, decided with her husband to start a business for those who live with deep regret.  They started the company called disappearing inc. which you may have seen advertised on the back of metrowest busses. This week I was asking about her work because it’s not every day that you get to meet a tattoo removing technician.

So she told me that she has removed tattoos from former convicts (which their business does as pro bono work), and from former addicts who are walking the path of recovery. She removes tattoos from those who want to go into a new field of work that the tattoos might hold them back, particularly neck tattoos that prevent them from enlisting in the armed services, or from becoming flight attendants.  And she removes tattoos for people whose ex-spouse’s name is emblazoned on their bodies, and now want to start a new life and marry someone else.  She removes tattoos from people who made choices at one time that no longer suit them.  She says her work allows people the freedom to move on in their lives from the place in which they felt trapped either physically or even emotionally to a place where they want to be.

And another part of her job is part therapy, part confessional.  Clients tell her the deepest secrets of their hearts, the mistakes they have made, the regrets they have, and the shame they shoulder, and her clients leave her studio feeling known, cared for and unburdened.

So what if you do not have a special skill to bring healing to a person?  The good news is, in fact, you do – just by showing up and listening.

The second example is from the book I mentioned.  It is called The Heart’s Invisible Furies, by John Boyne.  It is a coming of age story of a man who negotiates life as a gay man born in Ireland in the 1940s named Cyril.  In one part of the book Cyril, finds himself in New York City in his 40s, in the late 1980s. His partner is an epidemiologist who is working to find a cure for AIDS.  And because Cyril does not have a work visa he gives his time to being a volunteer visitor in a hospital.  His work is visiting patients with AIDs at a time when the stigma and fear around people who had contracted AIDs was rampant.  He finds himself visiting an elderly woman who contracted AIDs because she was a hemophiliac, and a college student who made one tragic bad choice, and a choreographer who was a serial adulterer, and a middle aged man who lived an extravagant life of wine, woman and song.  Cyril knows them only by patient numbers because they are nameless, like our woman in our Gospel lesson for this morning.  In this case the patients are anonymous to protect their privacy.  Of course, there is no cure for these people, only palliative care.  Cyril visits with these patients day after day.  Despite his own feelings of inadequacy, he listens to their pains, their regrets, their anger, their shame, never fixing, just being present.  For many of the patients, Cyril is the only person who visits them because they have been deserted by their friends and families.  Cyril’s willingness to sit in the room with these patients, sitting alongside their pain, is, maybe, just enough, for these people to feel a semblance of love and wholeness before they died.

In our Old Testament Lesson from the Wisdom of Solomon we hear this about God:

God did not make death, and God does not delight in death of the living.

God created all things that they might exist;

The generative forces of the world are wholesome.

Wisdom of Solomon ch. 1&2

The generative forces of the world are wholesome. Doesn’t that make you just pause and wonder? To me it sounds like an invitation to ponder a few questions: What is it that you do that brings generative healing forces to this world? What is it that you can say that brings generative love to the fore?  Who is God setting before you, both known and unknown, that you are asking to notice, and to have compassion? Who, by your attention, care and compassion will feel cared for and part of a loving community.

And then just to think about it a different way, sometimes we may find ourselves like the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ tunic – lonely, exhausted, despairing and on our last hope. And when you find yourself there – ask yourself, who is God putting in your path to convey to you the healing message or the healing presence you need to carry on?